Divided Paths Entwined
by Elfaroth
Summary: Ever wondered why Kate couldn't stab Ari in autopsy? Wondered why she thought his eyes looked 'kind?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Divided Paths Entwined  
**Fandom: **NCIS  
**Pairing:** Kate Todd/Ziva David  
**Spoilers:** Right through the first and second seasons to _Silver Wars_ in season three, just to be safe._  
_**Summary: **Ever wondered why Kate couldn't stab Ari in autopsy? Why she thought his eyes looked 'kind?  
**Rating: **M  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, they belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, and whoever else. If they did belong to me, Kate would surely still be alive and married to Ziva… And possibly Abby… At the same time… Time to go wash my mind out with soap.  
**Author's Note: **This is my first fic, so lotsa feedback will be most appreciated! Also, this story contains femme-slash, don't like it, don't read it!

* * *

"You bastard!" Kate spat at the terrorist, struggling to lift poor Gerald onto the autopsy table whilst trying to contain the bleeding from his shoulder. She couldn't believe it, that a terrorist had somehow gained access to NCIS and had taken her, Ducky and Gerald hostage. Sharp one-liners and quick-witted insults weren't going to be coming from her mouth so easily when priority now lay with tending to Gerald's gun shot wound.

"You seem like such a bright young women and that's all you can say?"

"You _are_ a bastard!" She yelled back, wishing to God above that the terrorist would at lease stop smirking at her like that. He was so calm, almost gentlemanly with his speech when she was close to panic; very well educated, Kate thought. As she assisted Ducky with trying to stop Gerald's bleeding, she kept track of the terrorist in her peripheral vision. His composure unnerved Kate; there was an air of calm yet deadly confidence about him that did not fit the typical profile of the average terrorist. He wasn't a religious extremist, Kate surmised, as there was no mention of Allah or Jihad or infidels. She doubted he was in it for money either, as he was very well groomed and as Kate had earlier observed, probably also received one of the best educations money could buy. No, Kate couldn't put her finger on what drove this man to reduce himself to a terrorist, despite him denying such a title.

"We don't negotiate with terrorists." Kate decided to remind the terrorist of the standard federal agency policies, see if she could shake him, to make him doubt his plans.

"Caitlin, when you get to know me better, you won't call me that."

"I have no intention of getting to know you better," she retorted, disgusted at the blatant innuendos the terrorist implied as he continued to look her up and down, committing her body to memory.

"Are you sure?" He leered.

Kate was taken aback. Taking in his close proximity and looking into his light brown and somehow familiar eyes, she realised what gnawed at her mind was not what his motivations were, but of who this terrorist reminded her of. All she knew, and was appalled with herself by, was that she was drawn to this intimidating man in a way that she could only describe as some bizarre form of attraction.

When she spotted one of Ducky's scalpels she decided she had to try something. She was the only Special Agent in the room. She had a duty to Ducky and Gerald to protect them, and hopefully now, to rescue them from this deadly man.

"Kate... No!" She heard Ducky's urgent whisper as she picked up the knife. Looking over to meet his gaze, she listened to Ducky continue his warning to her. "He wants you to try!"

Concealing the weapon behind her back, Kate waited for the terrorist to slowly wander his way back in her direction. Just as he was entering her proximity again, something in her subconscious made her hesitate. Instead of instantly launching herself at the man, she drew out the knife from behind her back, revealing it to him. She wanted to prove to both herself and the terrorist that he was just that; a horrid rebel activist that simply wanted to inflict pain wherever and whenever he could.

"Dr Mallard thinks that you were daring me to pick up this knife." Kate challenged.

"The proper term is a dissecting tool," came the terrorist's reply, continuing to move closer to Kate, even though he was fully aware that the Special Agent was now armed.

"You didn't answer my question. You just wanted another excuse to shoot Gerald, didn't you?" She wanted to be right, she wanted to be sure that killing this man would be the right thing to do. So before letting her subconscious invade her mind and make her second guess herself again, she threw herself at her target, knife in hand. But the terrorist was too fast and strong for her, easily blocking her assault and holding her still up against his chest as he disarmed her.

"I had no intention of shooting Gerald again, Caitlin." The terrorist stated, his eyes bearing down into hers. Held there only mere inches from the terrorist's face did Kate's subconscious finally reveal to her aware thoughts on who this terrorist's eyes reminded her of. He leant forward to whisper in her ear so Ducky could not hear the message he was about to imply. "I did, however, want to see if I was right about you."

"Next time I'll be quicker."

"Oh, don't you wonder why you weren't now?" The smile he held on his face confirmed Kate's thoughts, and she could tell that the terrorist knew who was now flooding Kate's memory, bringing back images that were stored in her mind nearly four years ago...

_Ziva..._


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Divided Paths Entwined

**Title: **Divided Paths Entwined  
**Fandom: **NCIS  
**Pairing:** Kate Todd/Ziva David  
**Spoilers:** Right through the first and second seasons to _Silver Wars_ in season three, just to be safe.  
**Rating: **M  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, they belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, and blah, blah, blah.  
**Author's Note: **This is my first fic, so lotsa feedback will be most appreciated! And thanks on the feedback already received! Also, this story contains femme-slash (probably not 'til further chapters though), so if you don't like it, don't read it!

* * *

**Nearly four years earlier…**

It was only 1300 hours and Kate was already praying for the end of the day. She'd been working on this particular profile for nearly a month and still hadn't managed to tie all the pieces together.

A month previous, the Secret Service received a letter pre-empting an attack on the president and his family. The letter was deemed as being an Al Qaeda threat, however the Secret Service still wanted a profile drawn up on the author to gain any further insight into the author's intentions and background, or whether he or she was even Al Qaeda at all. That was where Caitlin Todd was called in. Although lacking in hands-on experience, Agent Todd showed great promise in the field of profiling, and had responded well to interrogation training. So, only a couple of years out of finishing her post-graduate degree in forensic and operational psychology, Kate Todd was heading her first Secret Service investigation, from the profiling perspective at least. She was to act like a blood hound with a hunting party; when she'd pick up on a scent, she'd point in its direction and the rest of the squad would go galloping off to catch the fox. Only so far all they'd managed to find had been pheasant nests and rabbit holes. Kate was very thorough with her profiling. She'd had the letter analysed by a forensic handwriting expert to see if that could give them any more insight into the writer's background and education. She also made sure that the squad followed up every possible lead she came up with. However, such a tactic had earned a lot of frustration and impatience amongst her colleagues whenever they came across yet another dead end.

Today had been a particularly sore blow to the squad's morale and Kate's perceived ability as the squad's leading profiler. The man who they had tracked down over the last week had just been ruled out as a suspect on the account that his handwriting did not match that from the letter. Some hopeful agents spoke of the possibility of an associate, but Kate didn't join in on their speculation. Something was gnawing at her gut, telling her the man they had just released from custody did not fit the profile. Not the complete profile anyway. Kate was sure there were some gaps in the profile she had drawn up that being filled would prove to be essential to the investigation.

The potential terrorist who wrote the letter was on all accounts an Islamic extremist. As the writer stated, a Jihad on the President of the United States would be attacking the snake-like world of the infidels at the head. This was typical extremist ideals of carrying out Allah's will. However, despite the political based attack targeting the President and his family, there were no other political influences or undertones in the letter. To Kate, the author seemed to hold more resentment for the American culture and lifestyle, rather than for American politics. There were no demands for a surrender of the Allied troops in the Middle-East, or demands for the release of fellow freedom fighters. No, his or her intentions were not politically based. What surprised Kate was the anti-Semantic comments that were weaved throughout the letter. America does not have a particularly large Jewish population, so this confused Kate, but until she'd be able to shed some more light on this, she'd write it down to a general hatred for all cultures and religions of 'infidels'.

Remembering the conversation she had with her boss that morning walking in from the car park, Kate knew her neck was stretched out on the chopping block, and being young, inexperienced and female, there would be plenty of macho, chauvinistic agents waiting eagerly for her public execution. She had only just got out of her car when Agent Baer cornered her. His dispersion light, he innocently offered to walk her inside the building. As they walking up the stairs to the agency, he delicately asked for the progress being made with her case. When she informed Agent Baer of their suspect in custody, he smiled and congratulated her on the development. However, when they reached the doorway where the security guards were posted for the inspections of IDs, Baer stopped Kate from entering; he clearly hadn't finished with their conversation, and whatever he had to say he didn't want to be heard.

"You've done a good job so far Agent Todd, being thorough is a good sign of a hard worker." At this, he paused a moment to wipe some nonexistent dust off his sunglasses before continuing.

"However, quick results are much desired. Now I'm not saying be slap-dash; we want to be sure we've got the right man. But the ol' boys get easily tired of taking a young woman's orders, especially when it takes a while before the much wanted results start rolling in. You have a week to get this case wrapped up, or I'll have no other choice but to hand this over to a more senior profiler than you. Don't let me down." At this, he turned and walked in, flashing his ID to the guards, leaving Kate momentarily frozen at the top of the stairs.

A woman with dark hair who had stopped to shuffle around in her purse for her ID in front of Kate during her conversation with Baer quickly turned, knocking into the stunned Kate who dropped her own ID to the ground. The dark haired woman, with large dark shades over her eyes, bend down and picked up Kate's ID, hastily apologizing as she handed it back saying something about leaving her own in her car, before rushing off back down the stairs. Kate pulled herself back together, and walked into the agency building praying to God that the day would bring her the luck she needed.

By the end of the day, Kate finally emerged from her tiny excuse of an office, making her escape from work before anyone else could track her down and give her a tongue lashing. Making it to the safety of her car, Kate decided that the only way she could finish off this crappy day was to grab a drink at her local pub. If any day required a comfort pint, this was the day.

In the smoky mist of the pub, Kate cradled her beer in one of the dark corner booths. Some popular song was playing on the radio that Kate might've known if she actually had enough time in her life to listen to the radio. She simply sat, slowing sipping at her drink, mulling over in her mind the ton of crap she's found herself in as she mindlessly scanned the crowd. Still in her work suit, she gave off her best "I'm pissed off, tired and really don't wanna talk to you" vibe which did its job at keeping all the young merry men drinking at the bar who'd fancy an attractive woman like Kate away. As Kate continued to sip her sorrows away, her eyes briefly fell on a young, dark haired woman, following Kate's suit by sitting tucked away in another corner booth, keeping her own company. If Kate had been paying more attention, she would have realized the woman in the opposite corner was the same woman that bumped into her outside the agency earlier that day. However, Kate's head was too preoccupied with her own predicaments that the only thoughts that registered in her mind was, "She's a pretty thing. A wonder how she's here alone."

Finishing her pint, which took a near half hour to drink and was sickly warm by the time she had the last sip, Kate decided to call it a day. All she wanted to do was go to bed and pretend this day had just been a bad dream. Walking through the parking lot back to her car, Kate was too preoccupied with searching for her keys in her bag that she didn't notice that she was followed out of the bar until an unfamiliar voice in an accent Kate couldn't quite pick called out to her.

"Agent Todd. Could I have a word with you?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Divided Paths Entwined  
**Fandom: **NCIS  
**Pairing:** Kate Todd/Ziva David  
**Spoilers:** Right through the first and second seasons to _Silver Wars_ in season three, just to be safe.  
**Rating: **M  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, they belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, and blah, blah, blah.  
**Author's Note: **This is my first fic, so lotsa feedback will be most appreciated! And thanks on the feedback already received! Sorry this chapter's taken so long, uni makes for a hell of a hold up! Also, this story contains femme-slash (probably not 'til further chapters though), so if you don't like it, don't read it!

Ziva David was one of the most respected young female officers in Mossad when it came to hand-to-hand combat. She was disciplined with her training, fast with her movements and practically fearless. Older, more experienced male officers were rarely offended or had their egos bruised if they came off second best in training fights with the young David. She was a child of Mossad, with her father having been Deputy Director of Mossad for some time, and she had also just finished her three year service in the Israel Defence Force. David quickly earned her stripes in Mossad with her combat skills, leading her to be assigned to the agency's covert operations and assassinations division, Metsada. Unfortunately for Ziva, her biggest critic and harshest disciplinary was the same man she had to report to: Eli David, her father.

Eli David was often a very misunderstood man. Seen as being a hypocrite by using and placing his own children in harm's way to further his agency's cause, not considered by most to be unlike the child bombers used by the Hamas. And some of them would be very correct, as Eli had Ari's dangerous mission planned before his son was even conceived. However, it was a different case with Ziva. Eli made no apologies for teaching his daughters to shoot and fight, to the death if so required, as soon as they'd learnt to run. Eli knew all too well that Ziva wouldn't be safe from a life of violence just because she was born female. Women without guns could still die from them. It wasn't until Ziva lost her sixteen year old sister Tali in a Palestinian bomb raid that Eli saw the makings of one of Metsada's most deadly operators. Looking at eighteen year old Ziva cradling the lifeless body of his youngest child, Eli saw through his own tears that Ziva has shed none, but that a fire of hatred and revenge burned in her eyes instead. This scared Eli, but a week later when Ziva decided to join the army, he knew this perilous path was being one of Ziva's own decisions.

It was late in the evening on a very special occasion for Ziva; she got to spend a entire evening alone with her half-brother Ari. This was a rare treat, as since Ari went to medical school in the United Kingdom, they hardly got to see each other, especially without their father present. Ari was a good eight years older than Ziva, so she'd last had decent bonding time with her brother when she was about ten. However, the bonding time they had together of late had not have been as higher quality. Most of their conversations were based around their latest assignments. Also, Ari had grown a lot more cold and distant since his mother's death, which occurred only a week before Tali's. Ziva couldn't blame him, she'd only lost one family member in that week and she'd completely closed down, appearing like a zombie void of any emotion. Lord knows how Ziva would've coped if she'd lost her mother at the same time too.

They were sitting in the lounge of Ziva's apartment, each with a glass of wine in hand. They'd already covered the small talk necessary for the evening and had moved onto the topics of the latest threats, missions and operations they were involved in. It wasn't until Ari had mentioned a run-in he'd had with a man of similar breeding to himself, half Arab and half Jew, that Ziva's curiosity was sparked.

"A bit anti-semantic for a half Jew, don't you think Ari?" Ziva commented on Ari's recital of the conversation he had with the man.

"Not everyone has to be proud of the lineage of their bloodline, Ziva. He had good reason to hate his father." Ari lay back into his chair, eyes focused on his third glass of wine in his hand, as if his mind had disappeared into it.

"Even so, he's painting a lot of people with the same brush. Didn't you say he was born in the States?"

"Yes, born and bred there I would guess, judging by his accent. I'm sure he's nothing to worry about, Ziva. If he wants to take out his anger on his wife-bashing father, let him. It's the local metro cops' problem, not Mossad's." With that, the two of them descended into silence, mulling quietly into their glasses of wine.

It wasn't until the following morning that Ziva decided to act on the suspicion she'd developed the night before when talking with her brother. Reaching for her phone, she dialled the number for a Mossad contact of hers in Washington DC, America. After being informed about the recent letter threatening the President's life, and the incomplete profile on the author of the said letter, Ziva was pretty convinced that it was the same man Ari had spoken of.

"Thanks Aharon, I owe you one. Just one more thing, do you know the name of the agent who wrote up the profile?"

"I'm afraid I can't give you that much, Ziva. It's a newbie, some chick fresh out of her degree so I hear. Think Agent Baer's testing her out. That's all I know, sorry."

"No, that's great. Thanks again, Aharon." And with that, Ziva disconnected the call and finished the last few notes she'd been taking. Not wanting to waste any time, Ziva got in her car and drove like a crazed taxi driver to the Mossad headquarters to report to her father.

After having told the Deputy Director all she had heard from Ari the previous night and from Aharon that morning, Ziva watched her father lean back in his chair, rubbing his fore brow and thinking hard. Ziva didn't like the look of this; if her father was to agree with her in this situation he would not have needed to contemplate so long. When Eli David sat forward again, Ziva's line of thought at his behaviour was proven correct.

"I understand your concern, Officer David, but I doubt the two situations are related. You should trust my son's instincts. If Ari does not believe this man is a threat, then accept his judgment and focus at the task you have at hand."

Ziva shifted her weight from one foot to the other, crossing her arms at the same time. To anyone else this would have just been an unconscious moving of stance, but Eli could see that this was his daughter's way of unleashing pent-up, annoyed energy.

"What task is that, Deputy Director?" Ziva inquired in a disinterested monotone, another subtle way of conveying her displeasure.

"Ari's mission will soon be requiring him to operate within the United States. As I have recently made you his control officer, you will need to travel to the States to set up some safe houses where he will be required to operate from. Go home and make your preparations, you fly out tomorrow."

Already planning a detour with her trip, Ziva turned for the door, considering herself dismissed when the Deputy Director called her back.

"A kiss for your father?"

A little ritual that she and her father had always had since she was little, they would part in the good terms of a kiss. However, the meaning behind it had slowly morphed for Ziva. What had once been a display of affection and love in case their meeting would be their last, was now not much more than a ritual to show that Ziva hadn't lost all capabilities of showing affection. After kissing her father briefly on the forehead and allowing him to reciprocate, Ziva headed out the office, her thoughts bound for Washington DC.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Divided Paths Entwined  
**Fandom: **NCIS  
**Pairing:** Kate Todd/Ziva David  
**Spoilers:** Right through the first and second seasons to _Silver Wars_ in season three, just to be safe.  
**Rating: **M  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, they belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, and blah, blah, blah.  
**Author's Note: **This is my first fic, so lotsa feedback will be most appreciated! And thanks on the feedback already received! Sorry this chapter's taken so long, uni sucks as per usual, as does moving. Joining the army doesn't, but it's a big time-suck! Also, this story contains femme-slash (probably not 'til further chapters though), so if you don't like it, don't read it!

Slumping down in the driver's seat of her rental car, Ziva staked out the front of the Secret Service headquarters the third time that week. The previous day the Mossad agent thought she was onto a break. Whilst discreetly hovering around HQ a young woman brushed past Ziva as she answered her phone with a greeting of "Todd". The name was the same as the one Ziva was given by one of her contacts. However, before making her move Officer David was always sure to confirm a target.

Slipping on a pair of large, bug-like sunglasses, Ziva spotted the young brunette woman she spied the other day getting out of her car. Ziva was about to follow suit when she noticed an older man approach her target and gauge her in conversation. Instead, Ziva decided to take her time locking her car, following the pair close behind whilst pretending to search through her handbag for ID. She managed to overhear enough of the conversation to conclude the man was the woman's boss, and that the woman was in a tight position. As the man finally ended the conversation, turning on his heel and heading into the building, Ziva took her opportunity by running into her currently stationary target and knocking the woman's ID out of her hand. Apologising profusely, Ziva hurryingly reached down for the ID card before her chance was lost. In the short second that Ziva picked up the card off the ground, she managed to get a glimpse of the agent's name: Caitlin Todd. Not even thinking of whatever excuse she used to explain herself, the Mossad officer raced back to her car with an excited buzz; she'd made her mark. Now all she had to do was wait for this Agent Caitlin Todd to make her appearance at the end of the day.

Walking her way to a near-by cafe for a much needed coffee, Ziva contemplated her luck thus far. She knew things would be a lot easier now that she'll be dealing with another woman. With her experience in Mossad, the only real way she'd be able to gain the respect of any male agents in a short amount of time would be by kicking their butts in the training ring. However, she highly doubted that she'd be able to use such tactics in this situation. Women generally had better intuition, and rarely dismissed another person based on their being female also. She was willing to wager that this Caitlin Todd would definitely connect to the sisterhood of women working through blood, sweat and tears to survive in a male dominated workforce. Well, that the card Ziva was going to play anyway.

It was getting dark by the time Ziva detected her target Agent Todd leave the headquarters building. Ziva tailed Todd's car, trying to forego her normal erratic driving for a more discreet style. Following her target into a car park, Ziva watched as the tired-looking brunette climbed out of her car and plodded into a slightly rundown pub. Entering the building herself, the Mossad agent quickly grabbed herself a soft-drink from the bartender before tucking herself into a corner booth, keeping the Secret Service agent in her sights. There were lots of young businessmen having a drink and a laugh, clearly unwinding after work. Two half-drunk Joes spotted Ziva and started approaching her with big eat-shit, just-won-the-lottery grins on their faces. But one glare the Mossad agent usually reserves for interrogating terrorists stopped the men in their tracks, and they turned quick-smart on their heels and rejoined their mates. Last thing Ziva needed were a few drunk, horny men bringing attention to her presence here. As Agent Todd seemed to take forever to drink her beer, Ziva tried to make herself look preoccupied, playing Snake on her mobile. Letting out a sigh when she saw Todd finally get up to leave, Ziva put her phone away, despite being so close to breaking her high score. She didn't want to have to confront Caitlin Todd at her apartment; that was a bit too stalker-ish and creepy.

Marching out into the car park, Ziva silently sent up a prayer that this would work as she mustered her cool, unflappable exterior before opening her mouth and gaining her target's attention.

"Agent Todd. Could I have a work with you?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Divided Paths Entwined  
**Fandom: **NCIS  
**Pairing:** Kate Todd/Ziva David  
**Spoilers:** Right through the first and second seasons to _Silver Wars_ in season three, just to be safe.  
**Rating: **M  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, they belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, and blah, blah, blah.  
**Author's Note: **This is my first fic, so lotsa feedback will be most appreciated! And thanks on the feedback already received! Luckily, these last few chapters I've been writing in my notebook as I go, so I'm taking the opportunity to throw them all up on screen. Enjoy! Also, this story contains femme-slash (probably not 'til further chapters though), so if you don't like it, don't read it!

"Agent Todd. Could I have a word with you?"

Pausing still as a statue, Kate silently wished that she hadn't left her gun in the glove compartment of the car. At least the voice belongs to a female, Kate thought, I could take a female if the need be. Turning around, she noticed that the foreign voice belongs to the young, dark haired woman from the bar. Getting more unnerved at the idea that this woman had probably been following her, Kate tried to keep her voice calm and smoothly cool.

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?"

Ziva took a few more tentative but purposeful steps towards the Secret Service agent, and in spite of her previous plans of making a cover story to give to the American, Ziva decided for this to work, she'd have to be on a complete equal basis with Caitlin Todd.

"My name is Ziva David. I'm an officer for Mossad."

Israeli, that's what her accent was, thought Kate. Kate racked her brain of why a Mossad agent would be seeking her out and she only came up with two conclusions: Inter-agency contact or she was here to whack her. Hoping it wasn't the latter, Kate held her ground.

"What can I do for the Mossad, Officer David?"

"It is not what you can do for the Mossad, Agent Todd, but what I can do for you. Is there somewhere private we can talk? It's in regards to your current case I believe."

The Israeli's answer made Caitlin Todd think. _What I can do for you. _She mustn't be working under orders, sounds like she's working on her own motive, Kate thought. She stood there contemplating the woman in front of her, and whether trusting her was a good idea. How did she know my name? And the case I'm working, that's top secret classified information! Kate couldn't tell whether it was her unconscious filling in the blanks or not by knowing that the dark woman was Mossad, but Kate thought the officer in front of her had this delicate but deadly air about her.

Ziva had to resist the urge to fidget. Agent Todd's almost blank gaze at her started to chisel at her calm exterior and was making Ziva doubt her confidence in her plan.

Kate was just about to tell the Mossad officer that if she wants to talk to do so via the proper protocols when her boss's voice pops back into her head. _You have a week to get this case wrapped up, or I'll have no other choice but to hand this over to a more senior profiler than you._ The case is already in the toilet, what can it hurt?

"Alright, we'll talk. Back at my place, get in." Kate motioned to her car. Ziva made a move towards the car before thinking better of it.

"Actually I've got a car of my own. A rental, dark blue sedan. I'll follow you there." With a nod, Kate Todd got into her car and watched this Ziva David promptly walk over to, sure enough, a blue sedan rental on the other side of the car park. Waiting for the other woman to turn the engine and the lights on, Kate carefully drove out of the car park en route home, watching the Israeli tail her through the rear-view mirror. So much for curling up in bed early tonight. Pulling up in her driveway, Kate got out of the car, making sure she took her gun out of the glove box and hiding it in her purse. Ziva parked on the street and promptly got out and headed towards Kate. Not waiting for the Israeli woman, Kate made her way to the door, unlocked it, and headed inside with Ziva not far behind. Kate placed her purse on the kitchen counter, making sure she kept it in arms' reach, just in case. Considering this was her house, Kate decided she should at least be polite and treat this stranger as a welcomed guest, in a roundabout way at least.

"Could I get you something to drink?"

"That would not be necessary." Ziva responded.

"What? A drink?"

"No, sorry, I was referring to the pistol in your bag. I have no intention to hurt you, Agent Todd." Ziva was only trying to put the American woman at ease, but judging the widening eyes in front of her, Ziva realised that her reassurance didn't prove to be particularly reassuring. "Sorry, I don't mean to alarm you or anything, I'd be thinking the same if I was in your feet. I just noticed you grab your gun when you were getting out of your car. Look..." Ziva un-holstered the weapon at her side that was covered by her jacket, placing it on the counter before bending down and rolling up her left trouser leg, exposing another pistol before taking that one off too and placing it next to her first weapon. With only a moment's hesitation, Ziva also took out the knife she conceals at her waist; she usually always kept it as backup, but she thought that she's be clean-skinned for this circumstance.

Kate watched in stunned amazement at the Israeli de-armed herself. She was right, this woman in front of her does hold a deadly but graceful air about her, her movements fast, skilled and brimming with confidence. When the foreign woman straighten up, all weapons laid out on the kitchen bench top, Kate slowly moved to her purse and pulled out her concealed gun, laying it next to the rest of the assortment of weapons. Looking up at the Mossad officer again, they held each other's gaze for another minute, almost unsure of what is to happen next.

"Shoes."

"Pardon?"

"It's shoes, not feet." Kate clarified. "If I were in your shoes."

"Oh," the Israeli slightly blushed, "I'm sorry, I'm not up to space on certain English idioms yet."

Kate smiled gently, deciding to let that one slide. "Well, back to my original question, would you like something to drink? I think I might help myself to some wine if you don't mind."

For the first time that evening, Ziva relaxed. "Yes, wine would be lovely."

Kate grabbed a couple of glasses from the cabinet above the kettle before heading into the lounge room where the wine rack was. Placing the two glasses down on the coffee table as Ziva took a seat on the two seater couch, Kate then picked a Tempranillo from her rich selection; she couldn't handle a heavier wine without a meal to accompany it. Pouring both glasses, Kate took a seat next to the Israeli on the one seater. Both women sat back, glasses in hand, sipping at the wine before breaking the silence again.

"I have to apologise for intruding on your evening Agent Todd." Ziva began.

"Kate, call me Kate. Agent Todd's too formal for this time of night for me. And you're not intruding, I didn't have anything planned." Other curling up in bed and feeling sorry for myself, Kate silently added.

"Well then, please call me Ziva. Kate, firstly you have to know is that I'm here without the knowledge of Mossad. The Director did not think the information I have imperative enough to alert your agency, but I disagree."

Kate took a swallow of her drink, allowing the wine to slide down her throat, warming her muscles and relaxing her posture. But despite her relaxing appearance, she remained switched on, paying careful attention to the Mossad officer.

"I thought that might've been the case, you working under the radar."

"How'd you figure that?"

"Just how you said in the parking lot that Mossad didn't require my service, but I required yours."

The sides of Ziva's mouth curved up slightly. The woman she was dealing with was sharp, and clever. Of course she'd have to be in her job, but it's good to see that Caitlin Todd wasn't one of those people who's heads shut off the moment they're out the work door. Ziva took a moment to study the woman opposite her. Even with her relaxed posture, Kate's warm brown eyes were alert and focused. Don't know how focused they'll be soon at the rate she's downing the wine, Ziva thought as she saw that Kate was already close to finishing her first glass. Must've been a rough day at work, Ziva surmised. Not to be outdone, Ziva took a decent sized swallow of her drink before continuing.

"The man who you are after is Kasim Lipschitz. He's a half Muslim, half Jewish American citizen. His mother was an Afghan immigrant from when the Soviets invaded; his father's family migrated to America during the Second World War. Apparently, his father was a mean drunk and beat his mother regularly when Kasim was a child. When Kasim was older and living at college, his father murdered his mother by strangling her when drunk. With his mother died any slight affection Kasim may have had for America and it's culture. Apparently he blames the American culture and it's use of alcohol for his mother's death."

Kate remained quiet as Ziva spoke, looking at her now empty glass. As Ziva finished speaking she finished off her own glass, and Kate moved to refill both their glasses, choosing to ignore the irony of them discussing an anti-alcohol terrorist whilst they were well into polishing off a bottle of red.

"It fits." Kate stated as she took another sip. At Ziva's inquisitive look she continued. "It fits the profile. It completes it, actually. It had been bothering me. I noticed the anti-Semantic undertones in the terrorist's letter, and the distain for American culture rather than American politics. His integrated, Jewish father drunkenly murdered his Muslim mother. It fits." Ziva nodded her agreement whilst taking another thoughtful drink of her wine. "How'd you come across this information, Ziva?"

"My brother is also Mossad. He met this Kasim Lipschitz on his last assignment here in the States. What he told me of this man did not sit right with me, and after I did some further digging and got tipped off about the threat by a contact of mine, it seemed to add up."

After further conversation about Kasim Lipschitz and his threat, Kate noticed they'd finished the bottle of red off. She got up and found another Tempranillo on the rack. Pouring herself and Ziva another glass, she disappeared with the empty bottle into her kitchen to put into her recycling. Whilst Kate was wandering around, Ziva could feel the wine starting to have its affects on her, but she didn't really care. She did what she came to the States to do, now the rest was up to Kate. Taking the time to observe her present company, Ziva studied Caitlin Todd with appreciation. She liked the contrast of Kate's pale skin to her dark, straight hair, and her bright brown, doe-like eyes. And the light freckles across her face that were only seen if you actually looked for them, complimented with a pair of rosy lips that showed off perfect teeth in a quick and sweet smile. Plus a very toned and lithe body to finish the package off. It didn't take Ziva's ninja powers to deduce that Kate was gorgeous. Ziva tried hard to make her leering subtle, but considering the amount she'd had to drink, wasn't confident how good a job she was doing of it. She only hoped that Kate was feeling the affects of the wine enough to not notice.


End file.
